This Is What I Call Life
by jacklavigne
Summary: A different life, a different career, and a different kind of relationship between Alex and Piper. [two shot]
1. Chapter 1

_Authors Note: Hey guys, I'm back! First of all, apologies to all the people that follow my stories that haven't been updated in forever, but I promise you, they will get updated. I have not abandoned my stories and I won't, but my life has been very hectic lately, plus, my computer crashed a few months ago, wiping everything I had on there, including the new chapters for all my stories. But, my computer will be fixed soon and I can hopefully get back to updating. This story was written on my old computer, and it was all written in the middle of the night in the space of two hours, after repeatedly listening to the song What Would You Do? by Bastille. There may be some spelling errors, etc, as I haven't had time to go through it all properly, but hopefully it's not too bad. _

_This will be a two shot fic, with the second part hopefully up within the week, possibly a bit longer but not too long. The second part will also be a little bit longer than the first chapter too. I hope you all enjoy it._

**This Is What I Call Life**

_What would you do if your son was at home_

_Crying all alone on the bedroom floor, 'cause he's hungry_

_And the only way to feed him is to, sleep with a man for a little bit of money_

_And his daddy's gone, in and out of lockdown_

_I ain't got a job now, he's just smoking rock now_

_So for you, this is just a good time but for me, this is what I call life_

_Girl, you ain't the only one to have a baby_

_That's no excuse to be living all crazy_

_So she stared me right square in the eye _

_And said, 'every day I wake up, hoping to die'_

_She said, 'I gotta know about pain 'cause,_

_me and my sister ran away so our daddy couldn't rape us_

_before I was a teenager I had done, been through more shit, that you can't even relate to'_

_Bastille - What Would You Do?_

_It was bar that you'd never been to before, just a place you were walking past on your way home, where your three month old son was waiting for you, being looked after by your friend Polly while you went to another interview. From the amount of people waiting in the hall, to the skeptical look the boss gave your resume as you told him the reasons why you would be great for the job, you knew you hadn't gotten it. It was just a waitressing job, but you had no experience, only an English Lit degree that was basically useless to this man who needed someone to take orders and know what the fuck they were doing. It was the fifteenth interview that you'd been to in two months and you were feeling depressed and worthless, scared to lose your apartment as you were almost three months behind on rent and you needed a fucking drink or six. _

_So you'd stopped here to drown your sorrows and wonder what the fuck you were going to do, wonder if you and your son were going to end up on the street. Polly had no extra space, since she had just given birth to her second child with her husband Pete and your parents hadn't been an option for over a year. They had disowned you from the moment you told them that you were three months pregnant and that the father had ditched you upon hearing the news, not two days earlier. You're pretty sure they would have rathered a criminal for a daughter, than an unmarried whore about to give birth to a bastard child. _

_You had no other friends and you'd been getting by for the last few months on government money, but it just wasn't enough to support you and your son. You could feel tears building in your eyes as you downed the shot of tequila that the bartender had placed in front of you, giving you a sympathetic look as he took in your fancy shirt and heels and the smudged mascara on your face. _

_You were barely twenty three years old, less than a year out of college, with a three month old son that you couldn't provide for and no hope for the future. You wondered if you shouldn't just end it all now. Take the bottle of antidepressants that you'd been given by the local hospital's therapist and then drink until you fell asleep and didn't wake up. _

_But you couldn't do that to James, no matter how hopeless and horrible you felt. His cute, pudgy face and his bright blue eyes with that cheeky smile were the only things keeping you going. And you _would_ go on, you'd find something, no matter what it was. _

_You were interrupted from your thoughts by a man leaning next to you at the bar, smelling of cheap alcohol and giving you a leering grin. He was an attractive man and he wore a light gray suit, with his blonde hair ruffled and he could have been a doctor or a lawyer, though an unkempt one. _

_"Hey baby," he slurred, his bloodshot green eyes raking over your body in a way that made you shiver unpleasantly. "How much you charging? I got hard the moment I saw you walk in here."_

_"Excuse me?" You managed to splutter at his bold words, already grabbing your bag and getting ready to make a hasty exit. _

_"I asked how much you're charging, sweetheart." He asked again, almost stumbling as he reached behind him to pull his wallet out of his pocket. "You look high end, so what, three hundred for the night?"_

_You stared at him in shock, watching blankly as he opened his wallet which was practically bursting with cash. It suddenly occured to you exactly what he was asking, how much he was offering and you felt sick to your something and yet.._

_It was as if someone else took over your body as you leant your elbow on the bar and gave him a sultry look. "Honey, you've got to be kidding me. I charge three hundred for an hour."_

_He looked up at you from beneath messy blonde bangs, his expression surprised before he let out a husky, nervous chuckle. "The way you look? I bet you do. I ain't never done this before, I'm not sure how it goes."_

_"There's a hotel down the road." You couldn't believe the words that were coming out your mouth, you felt like you were going to throw up, but you needed this. There were no jobs in your near future and you had a son at home, who needed you to take care of him. You needed to do this. Just one time, you thought to yourself; just once so that you could get your landlord off your back and buy enough time to find something better. "You get us a room and then you pay an hour or more, depending on how long you can go for, baby."_

_"All right!" His grin was huge and excited as he took your hand and practically pulled you off of the stool. "Lead the way!"_

_/_

_Four years later.._

It's getting late, you can see the sky darkening through the thin blinds that cover your window, the moon climbing to replace the sun in the sky. Loud voices sound from the television set behind you, not helping your slowly growing headache as you open your freezer door and pull out a chilled bottle of vodka. Your thumb absently wipes away the thin layer of frost that covers the label as you subtly turn your head to catch a glimpse of the two figures sitting on the worn leather couch, one significantly older than the other. Noticing that their attention is glued firmly to the screen, you unscrew the cap and take several hasty swallows of the clear liquid, not even batting an eye at the sharp burning sensation as it slides down your throat. More than a quarter of the bottle is gone before you slide it back into its carefully hidden spot behind two frozen loaves of bread, silently wishing that you could down the whole thing but knowing that a stumbling fool is not something you can afford to be tonight.

You turn around to face the couch, tightening the belt of your tan ladies trench coat, which barely reaches your knees, and study the two figures that barely acknowledge your existance. One of the people is a sixteen year old girl, though she could be mistaken for a college student with her mature attitude and quietly observant eyes. Her long brown hair is tied up in a messy ponytail and her lips are stretched into a grin as she laughs at the program on the TV. Her brown eyes dart towards her much smaller companion as he giggles with her and you can't help but smile at the warm expression on her face as she slings an arm casually over his shoulders in such a sisterly act before returning her gaze to the screen. Her name is Lucy and she lives down the hall with her alcoholic asshole of a father, though she spends most of her nights sleeping in your bed while you work. You met her when she was thirteen, hiding in the stairwell with a bruise covering half of her face and she's helped you out whenever she could since that day, the same day you almost knocked down the door to her apartment and scared her father within an inch of his life as you yelled at him while waving around a butchers knife grabbed hastily from your kitchen.

The second person on the couch, the one who makes your heart thump almost painfully with affection and love every time you look at him, is only four years old. His almost pitch black hair is the complete opposite of your golden blonde locks, the only resemblence he has with his long forgotten father, but his eyes match yours; a clear, twinkling blue like a perfect day. You never thought you could ever love someone as much as you love him, have loved him since the first moment you saw his tiny face and felt his warm weight in your arms. He is the one and only reason that you continue your pitiful excuse for a life, and you would do anything for him. He's small for his age, small enough to still pick up without any real effort and he has a few dark freckles across his pale nose that wrinkles when he smiles.

And he's smiling right now, though it faulters slightly when he catches a glimpse of you out of the corner of his eye. He notices your clothing and the dark makeup around your blue eyes and a tiny frown creases his forehead. "You leaving?"

You take a few moments to answer, forcing down the lump that's stuck in your throat, created by the forlorn expression on his face. "Yeah, baby, I gotta go to work. But you've got Lucy here to play with, so you won't even notice I'm gone."

"But you said you'd stay and watch cartoons with me on Friday and it's Friday now." It was true, and the hurt in his voice is tearing your heart in two, but you'd gotten your latest electricity bill yesterday and it was more than you expected, so you have to work.

You try to remind yourself that you don't have a choice; it's not like you want to leave, to leave him, but you have to. You're the adult here and someone has to put food on the table and so you force a somewhat shaky smile, meeting Lucy's sad, knowing eyes for a moment before returning your gaze to your son's. "I know, James, and I promise that I'll watch cartoons with you for the whole weekend to make up for it, okay? But I really have to go tonight."

His expression lightens slightly at your promise of an entire weekend in your company and he finally nods his head in agreement, loosening the metal band around your heart. "Okay, mama."

He's such a good kid, you think to yourself as he gazes up at you with obvious adoration. You're never around much and you don't get to spend as much time with him as you would like, but he rarely ever complains, even on the nights that you come home empty handed and he goes to sleep hungry. He doesnt have any fancy clothes or cool video games and he has very little friends; a completely different childhood to the one you had yourself and it makes you hate everything sometimes. It makes you hate your parents that disowned you and his father that vanished once you told him the news of your pregnancy, but most of all, it makes you hate yourself for not being able to give him a better life than this.

Fuck, he's such a good kid and he deserves so much better than this.

"I love you," you murmur as you lean down to press a kiss to his forehead, pushing his dark hair away from his face as you pull away. "Be good for Luce, okay? She's probably missing a super cool party to hang out with you tonight."

"Pfft," Lucy scoffs at your words. "Like I'd rather be anywhere else, right, kiddo?"

You give them a smile as they giggle together, turning briefly to look at your reflection in the mirror before you pick up your purse. You slide it into the pocket of your coat as you head towards the door, ruffling James's hair as you pass. "Okay, well, I'll see you crazy kids in the morning, okay? I'll make bacon for breakfast, if I don't get any complaints from the neighbours about the noise."

You grin to myself as you hear the volume of the television quieten immediately and slip into your high heels that are waiting by the door, which you then quietly close behind yourself. Taking a deep breath, you adjust the collar of your coat before walking determindly down the hallway towards the stairs, your expression changing from one of a loving mother to that of a seductress as you ready yourself for the long night ahead of you.

/

The walk from your apartment to the club that you frequent is thankfully short, as you feel the chill of the late January breeze blow against your face. The street is bustling with people, ready to start their weekend with heavy drinking and dirty dancy and you put on your best smile as you walk straight to the start of the line. You are spotted almost immediately by the bouncer at the door, who returns your grin and nods his head in acknowledgement as he moves to let you pass. "Hey, Piper."

"Hey, Luke," You return the greeting, giving the tall man a warm smile as you stop beside him. "Good crowd tonight?"

"Yeah, I reckon you'll have an easy time in there. Give a shout if you need a hand, yeah?"

"Sure thing." You give him a friendly pat on his bulging bicep before walking into the club, where your senses are immediately overwhelmed by the noise. You maintain your composure as you glance around the large room of one of the most exclusive nightclubs in New York called Litchfield. The club consisted of three seperate levels, with the bottom floor being a massive dancefloor, with a small bar situated at the back of the room. Strobe lights flashed from every corner of the room, making it seem as if the dancers are moving in slow motion as they grind against each other in the midst of a sea of people. The second floor has a much larger bar, stretched from one end of the room to the other, along with poles built into the counter for strippers to dance on and many booths around the room for the customers to sit and watch. The third floor was the roof, which was much quieter, allowing conversation and that's where you always start your night.

You skirt the edge of the dancefloor, bumping gently into sweaty bodies as you make your way towards the stairs, adding a slight sway to your hips as you walk. You keep a seductive smile on your lips, raising your hand occasionally to wave at a few people that you know before you start up the stairs. You give a brief glance towards the second floor as you pass it, noticing the amount of people in the room and the money that is being carelessly thrown onto the bar for the scantily clad dancers and know that it will be a good night for business. The bar is completely packed, three people deep and there are two young girls dancing to that irritating Milkshake song on top of the counter. You smile drolly as you continue up the stairs, feeling a cool breeze blow your hair back as you finally reach the platform to the roof, which is almost as packed as the bar.

"Piper!" You hear a familiar voice call your name and a genuine smile lights up your face as you turn towards the small bar, almost hidden in the corner. There's a woman smiling back at you, with long red hair and kind blue eyes and you give her a wave before making your way over.

"Hey, Rach." You give the bartender, one of the few people in this city that you call friend, a smile as she reaches for a nearby glass and immediately start to make your regular order.

"Hey baby!" Her smile is warm and geniune and it makes you smile wider, because the woman before you knows almost everything about you and she can still smile at you like that without a hint of disgust in her eyes. It makes you want to cry every fucking time. "Is this a

social visit or are you working tonight?"

"Working," you answer briefly, noting the way she nods her head without the slightest bit of judgement. Again, you want to cry. You love this girl.

"That's a damn shame, I thought I might actually get a little bit of company tonight, I'm so fucking bored." Her gaze flickers past you for a bare instant and her kind eyes immediately become stormy as her expression twists into one of barely concealed anger. "What the fuck are you doing here, Michael?"

"I thought I'd come and say hello to my favourite girl." There's another very familiar voice, one that sends chills racing down your spine and causes your left wrist to immediately start aching, where the bones were once broken by the very man with that rough, horrible voice. You can still remember that night clearly, just over six months ago, when what seemed to be a normal night turned into a nightmare. This job had always been a gamble and injuries weren't uncommon, just another risk that came with the profession, and it wasn't the first time you'd ever been beaten, but it had been the worst.

A three day long hospital stay and a broken wrist which had only been one of the multiple injuries you received that night, when a long time customer had finally shown his dark side.

You don't bother to turn around, keeping your eyes locked on Rachel as you feel him move so close behind you that you can smell the sickening scent of his cologne. You can imagine his face, with that ever present smirk of arrogance and you can practically feel his dark predatory eyes as they roam over your body.

It makes you want to throw up.

"What? No hello for me tonight, Pipes?" The way he says your name so casually, like an old friend, makes your stomach turn and you take a large mouthful of the margarita that Rachel places in front of you, relishing the familiar taste of tequila on your tongue. "Don't be rude now, look at me when I'm talking to you."

"Back off, Michael," Rachel's eyes are practically on fire as she glares furiously at the man behind you and you've never loved her more than you do right now. "Don't make me get Red."

"I'm not causing any trouble, I'm just saying hello." His voice is as smooth as velvet, concealing the animal underneath the crisp white shirt and carefully combed hair. But the animal appears soon enough, with the way his hand grips your arm a bit too tightly to be friendly as he attempts to turn your around. "Come on, Piper, I'm trying to fucking talk to you here."

You're about to open your mouth to call out for security, but the fingers that gripped your arm are removed before you can make a sound and another voice speaks for you.

"You don't want to do that, my friend," the new voice is soft and warm, spoken casually though the threat behind the words is clear. "Leave the lady to her drink; if she wants your company, I'm sure she would ask for it."

"Who the fuck are you, asshole?" You turn around to find Michael's arm held tightly by a man, who is at least a hand shorter than him, but whose body is held straight with confidence. He's attractive, with neat dark hair, lightly tanned skin and a thin moustache and his expression is polite despite the less than gentle grip he has on Michael's wrist. "Why do you care how I touch her? She's just a fucking whore."'

The moment the words slip out Michael's mouth, his face twists in pain as your saviour twists his arm, his expression remaining calm. "I don't like rude men that think they have a right to a woman's body. I am many things, but a misogynistic asshole in not one of them. Now, leave, before you say something that I make you truly regret."

With a rough shove, Michael is pushed into the crowd and the relief that flows through you makes your knees shake. You give the stranger than now stands before you a trembling but grateful smile and he returns it, reaching out to guide you onto one of the stools in front of the bar. "Thank you...?"

"Fahri, and it was no problem. No man should speak about a woman like that," the stranger, Fahri, says kindly as he sits on the stool beside you, resting his empty scotch glass on the bar, which Rachel immediately begins to fill.

"Well, it's not like what he said wasn't true," the words are out of your mouth before you can stop them, a slight note of self loathing in your tone which cannot be hidden, and Rachel opens her mouth immediately to protest, but you shake her head weakly and she turns away with a huff. You turn your gaze to the man beside you, expecting disgust or worse from this complete stranger, but instead find unexpected warmth and understanding in his dark yes.

"Not all of us can be doctors or lawyers," he answers, giving you a gentle smile and you find yourself returning it as your hands finally begin to stop shaking and you finish the rest of your drink. "Why don't I buy you another round and then you can come sit with my friends and I, if you want?"

"I'd like that."

/

It's barely midnight and it's been two hours since you left the bar to join Fahri and his friends, and an hour and fifty nine minutes since all your drinks were put on his tab. Your alcohol tolerance is higher than most, but you are beginning to feel the tequila that has replaced the blood in your veins and you know it's a problem but you can't find it in yourself to care. You're also realizing that Fahri has a very interesting circle of friends and there's something not quite right with some of them, but you find that you don't care about that either. No one has been anything but polite to you since Fahri introduced you and while you know that you're here for business, you're actually enjoying yourself for the first time in what feels like forever.

The current conversation is literature and you can feel the straight A student and college graduate inside of you brighten up as you discuss Shakespeare and Virginia Woolf, putting your college degree to good use for the first time since you left Smith. You majored in English Literature and Theatre and it's been years since you've used this part of your brain and you find yourself enjoying it immensly, especially when the men and women around you give you admiring looks every time you add your thoughts and opinions to the conversation, as if they're of worth.

Despite the amount you've had to drink, you're not wasted enough for the business side of your brain to shut off completely, and you notice the hungry looks that you've been receiving, ever since you removed your coat to reveal the tight black dress underneath. You've taken note of at least two men that could be potiential customers; one of Fahri's companions and another man that has been watching you from the bar for the last thirty minutes. There's also a woman, one of Fahri's business associates, who has been watching you discreetly since the moment that you sat down. You're unsure whether it's desire in her eyes or just curiousity, but every time you try and meet her gaze, she turns away and resumes her conversation.

You stand when the conversation turns to the stock market and excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, giving Rachel a small wave as you pass. You enter the bathroom, ignoring the two women at the sinks and slip into the cubicle, relieving yourself and taking no notice of the opening and closing of the door. When you exit the stall, the two faceless women are gone, to be replaced with Fahri's business associate, whose name you thought was Alex.

Even leaning against one of the polished white hand basins, she is still a hand taller than you, with piercing green eyes half hidden behind a pair of black rimmed glasses that study you intently. Long raven black hair frames her pale face, streaked with electric blue dye with bright red lips that pulled up in a slight smirk. She wore a pair of skin tight black leather pants, covered half way up her calves by her black Doc Martins and a tight white tank top that showed off her ample cleveage to your admittedly appreciative eyes. She wasn't conventionally attractive, or conventional anything really, she was just smoking hot and she knew it.

Confidence. You've always appreciated that in a woman. It was something you needed in your line of work and this woman was full to the brim of it.

"Hello," You greet her politely as you wash your hands in the sink next to her, carefully checking your flawless make up in the mirror in an attempt to avoid her intense stare. "Alex, is it?"

"That's right." You've heard her low husky voice several times during the night, though never directed at you and it sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. "And you're Piper. I've heard about you."

You turn your head to meet her gaze now, surprised at her words. "Oh?"

"I'm a friend of Nicky's," she explains and you nod, a smile stretching your lips as you think of Nicky. She was one of your first customers when you started your little business, introduced to you by Red, a motherly figure to you both, but it didn't take long before your strictly business and pleasure relationship turned into one of friendship instead. "She talks about you all the time, said a lot of good things."

"And bad things, I'm sure," your words come out unexpectedly flirtacious and you manage to surprise a laugh out of your bathroom companion, who nods in agreement.

"Oh yeah, Nicky can have quite a mouth on her sometimes."

"Don't I know it," you murmur in response with a smirk, your eyes searching Alex's face as she gazes straight back at you. It might be the alcohol, but you're pretty damn sure you can see more than curiousity and amusement in her eyes. There's want there, hidden beneath the surface and again, you find yourself surprised. Alex doesn't seem the type of person who would have to pay for companionship, but who knew, maybe she was just curious about the business. "So, Alex, you know what I do for a living, what about you?"

There's that smirk again, confidence mixed with amusement and you feel your heart flutter in your chest. "I work for an international drug cartel."

Your face doesn't move a muscle, even as the words and their meaning roll around in your brain, because this time, you're not surprised. You knew there was something shady going on with Fahri and his group, a little more than a friendly get together when you saw money exchanging hands and black suitcase being place subtly beneath Fahri's chair. You think Alex expects more of a reaction from you, but she doesn't know the life you've led for the past four years, doesn't know the huge array of people you've dealt with, from the highest in society, to the lowest scum of the earth.

International drug dealers? Big fucking deal. She'd fucked an ex con, two weeks out of prison less than a month ago, and he'd been put away for murder. Alex had no fucking idea.

"Sounds exciting," you answer politely, grabbing a towel to dry your hands as Alex continues to study your neutral expression. "You get good benefits?"

"Medical and dental, no bodyguard though," Alex answers with a grin, her face relaxing at your playful tone. "Seems like you get a better deal than me, since half the bouncers in here are watching you like a hawk."

"They're good people and they keep me out of trouble," you reply with a warm grin. "Your salary is probably triple mine though, you could always just buy a bouncer of your own."

"True," you watch as the curiousity flickers once more in Alex's eyes and you expect the question even before it's asked. "How much do you charge a night?"

"Why?" You ask coyly, turning your head to gaze at her with the most seductive look you can muster. "Just curious or interested?"

The burning desire in her eyes is all the answer that you need.

/

You don't even take a moment to look around the hotel room, you already assume what it looks like, just by the amount Alex pays for it. As soon as the door closes behind you, your hands are on her face, pulling her down into a hungry kiss which she returns without a moments hesitation. You are unsurprised when she immediately takes control from you, leading you to the bed where she pushes you down with gentle but insistant hands, before covering your body with her own. Her demanding tongue parts your lips and you release a moan as you taste her for the first time, finding yourself unexpectedly enjoying this business transaction.

Though, if you think about it, you have always enjoyed your female customers more than the male. Women were always softer, less inclined to raise a hand against you and almost always gentle with their touches. Men were only ever interesting in their own pleasure, which you can't blame them for, since all they pay you for was to give them pleasure. If they wanted to make love, they'd get a girlfriend; they wouldn't waste that kind of effort on a prostitute.

But you can already tell that this isn't what Alex is after, though, you aren't quite sure what she's after at all, as she nips your neck and whispers in your ear all the dirty, wonderful things she's going to do to you. Her hands are gentle as they knead your breasts, sending sparks of electricity through your body and your arching back and quiet moans are not the usual rehearsed performance you would normally give. It's all real and you know you shouldn't be feeling this way, but you do and you're helpless to stop it.

You pull off her shirt and press an open mouthed kiss against her collarbone as she unzips your dress and slides it down your body. A finger is hooked in the waistband of your panties and a moment later, they are ripped away and a warm thigh is pressed between your legs creating friction and pulling another breathless sigh from your traitorous lips. Your hips begin to rock of their own accord, smearing your wetness against her skin and you can't help but smile at the growl that escapes from her throat, animalistic and downright sexy. It's barely a second later that her hand replaces her thigh and then she's inside you and it feels fucking _amazing _and god, you probably shouldn't be getting paid to be feeling this good. You can barely remember the last time sex felt anything but degrading and painful and for a moment you forget why you're here as you dig your fingernails into her back and beg her not to stop.

She's pressing herself against your thigh as she fucks you and you're still concious enough to grip her hips and pull her against you harder, in rhythm with her thrusts and her moans begin to intertwine with your own and it's the most beautiful symphony you've ever heard. It's amazing how in sync you are with every push and thrust, complete strangers that nevertheless seem to know every inch of each other, know every spot to touch that brings you closer and closer to the edge. You're so in sync that you both reach release and cry out at the same time, breathless and sweaty as she pushes against that spot inside you and makes your insides seize with pleasure.

Her body collapses ontop of yours, a warm comforting weight and you wrap your arms around her, caressing her glistening skin with your fingertips and pulling a soft purr from her lips. It makes you smile and you can't stop yourself from pressing a kiss to her temple, only to have her lips cover your own a second later and then it's starting all over again.

/

You wake as the first rays of sunlight begin to shine through the window and you allow yourself a moment to stretch your pleasantly sore body before you slip from the bed. It isn't often that you spend the night with the person who pays you, but sometimes it can't be helped as your exhausted body relaxes into the mattress and your eyes flutter closed. You spare a brief glance at the woman who still lays asleep beneath the pure white sheets of the hotel bed and smile as you slip into your dress and pull on your shoes. The sheets cover the lower half of her body, leaving her bare from the waist up and you don't think you've ever seen skin as soft and beautiful as hers. You allow yourself a brief touch, feeling the softness beneath your fingertips before you pull away and pick up the notes that were left on the bedside table. For a moment, you consider leaving the money, since last night hardly felt like work but you shake your head and put the cash in your purse before walking to the door.

You still have bills to pay afterall and a son to feed and no matter how good last night was, you would take the cut on your concience to put food on the table. You wouldn't feel guilty.

You give Alex one last look, take a mental picture to comfort you on worse nights, before you slip out the door and into the hotel's hallway. You make a mental list of all the things you need as you leave the hotel and step onto the streets of New York, forgetting about the woman you've left behind. Your first stop is the post office to pay your bills before you continue on to the grocery store to pick up what you need for breakfast. As you past the bookstore that is around the corner from your apartment, you notice a chemistry book in the window, remember the exam that Lucy has coming up and pick that up too. It's not long before you unlock the door to your apartment, only to find the two inhabitants in the same spot you left them in, though they have traded their day clothes for pyjamas.

"Hey kids!" You greet them happily, dropping the chemistry book on the couch beside Lucy before leaning down to press a kiss to the top of James's head. "How was your night?"

You listen to them banter on about their night happily, geniunely enjoying the story your son tells about the scary movie he and Lucy stayed up to watch. You give the older a girl a wry look as your four year old son explains a certain scene in which the girl was literally cut into pieces and Lucy at least has the curtesy to look slightly guilty. You fry them up bacon and eggs, trading your own plate for a cup of strong coffee, after you change out of last nights clothes and into a pair of track pants and your old Smith hoody. And as you watch these two people who mean so much to you from across the table, eating and talking excitedly about the weekend of cartoons that awaited them, it makes you appreciate the good things in life and forget about the bad, if only for a few moments.


	2. Chapter 2

_Authors Note: Howdy, friends. I know this is a bit overdue, but I've had some tragedies in my life recently that have stopped me from writing. It's also a possibility that this chapter won't be as well recieved as the last (for which I am grateful for all the reviews and PM's I received, you guys are really fantastic) since I haven't really had much time to go over this and I feel as if it came out a bit rushed and poorly written and yet I haven't been able to find anyway to fix it, so I'm just going to post it. I may come back later and fix this chapter up when I have time, hopefully. And speaking of chapters, there were a lot of people out there who were hoping that this would go for more than two chapters and your wishes have been granted. I found that I couldn't fit everything that I wanted into this chapter, so there will be one more after this, to wrap everything up. _

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, I am truly fucking grateful for it. I hope you enjoy this one, and that it doesn't take me too long to get the last part out. _

**This Is What I Call Life**

_She said, I want something else _

_To get me through this semi charmed kinda life, baby_

_Baby, I want something else, I'm not listening when you say_

_Goodbye_

_Third Eye Blind - Semi Charmed Life_

"Fuck."

The word is a bare whisper, slipping past the cigarette that hangs loosely in between your lips as you regard the multiple crisp white envelopes on the table before you. They're bills, some new and some old and all unpaid, since you haven't been working much recently. You've been spending as much time with your son as you can, since you know that he'll start school soon and that you'll only be able to spend a limited amount of time with him every day after that, especially since you work most nights.

You look up when you see someone slide into the seat across from you, unsurprised to find Lucy resting her elbows on the edge of the table, looking down at the bills gloomily. She's young, only sixteen years old, but she knows about you and what it is you do and has never once judged you. You try to hide the worst of it from her and of course from James, but she's so damn smart and she can see through every little lie you tell her. She tries to help out, to help pay bills and rent, but you refuse the meager amounts of money that she earns from her job at the grocery store, have her put it away for college or a car. But you do ask her to look after James whenever you can, knowing it's always welcome.

Knowing that she's the only person that you've got that you would trust him with.

"Shit," she mutters as she sorts through some of the bills, which you don't have the energy to hide from her right now.

Instead, you take a sip from your glass of straight vodka before you half heartedly chide her on her use of language. "Lucy."

"Sorry," she murmurs automatically in response as her eyes linger on a pile of bills, all with the word 'overdue' written in capital letters on the front, before changing the subject. "I thought you quit."

"I did," you say around the cigarette hanging from your lips. "But I'm stressed, so I'm allowing it for one day."

You watch her as she pulls a cigarette from your packet, sticking it in between her lips and lighting it up. You know she smokes sometimes, can smell it on her clothes, but she never smokes in front of you and it's a shock to your eyes. Your motherly instincts kicks in immediately and even though it's slightly hypocritcal, you scold her again. "Luce!"

"What?" She asks defensively, blowing out a line of smoke as she meets your gaze. "I'm being stressed with you. Just for one day."

You open your mouth to give her one of your famous lectures when your phone screen lights up with a new text message and you glance at the name and find a smile curling the edges of your lips for the first time in days. It's Alex, who you met almost three months ago now and who has now become somewhat of a regular customer of yours. After that first night, she started coming to Litchfield more frequently and every time she was there, she would take you back to the same hotel room as the first time. Sometimes she wouldn't show up for weeks on end, away on business in some country or other, but she always came back.

You found that you kind of liked her, liked her voice and the way she touched you. She was a good person, despite the work she did, and you found yourself becoming more and more interested in her as the months went by. Every time you entered Litchfield only to find her missing, you'd always feel a pang of dissapointment in your stomach. She was just a good customer, you kept trying to convince yourself. Your favourite customer and there was nothing wrong with that.

**Alex:**

**Will you be out tonight?**

You glance down at the bills that are piled on the table in front of you, and know you don't have much of a choice; you had to work tonight. You glance up from your phone to look at Lucy, who is sorting through the bills with a concerned look on her face.

"Hey Luce, do you mind looking after James tonight?"

"Sure," she looked back up at you, a mixture of hope and worry in her brown eyes as she glanced between you and your phone. "He's tuckered out already anyway, sleeping on the bedroom floor after we made a giant lego tower."

You smile at the image of your son that appears briefly in your head before looking down at your phone and typing a reply.

**Piper:**

**Yes.**

/

You've been at the club for almost half an hour before she approaches you, those familiar hands on your hips as her lips brush against your neck. You ignore the shiver that runs down your spine as she pulls you closer, blaming it on the amount of alcohol in your system, and smile into your margarita as you hear her husky voice whisper into your ear.

"This dress should be illegal," the words are murmured throatily into your ear, an unmistakable hint of lust lining the edges of every word. "Fuck, Piper."

You can't help but grin as you feel her hand climb up your thigh, following the line of skin made visible by the cut of your dress. It was a sexy red number, that you only brought out on the special occasions, with a low plunging neckline and two slits up the slide, that stopped just below your hips. It was far from modest, exposing most of your thighs and a hint of your ass when you moved in a certain way and you knew that Alex would love it from the second you pulled it from your wardrobe.

"Careful," you smirk as you feel her hand start to skim the skin of your ass, fingertips brushing the garter belt that was attached to your stockings. "If your hand moves any higher, you're going to have to start paying for it, darling. And since I'm wearing this dress and looking this good, I'm charging extra tonight."

"Oh yeah?" She breathed into your ear as her lips brushed against your neck. "I think it's worth it."

"Probably." You can feel your heart beginning to race as her hand boldly squeezed your ass underneath the dress and you finally turn your head to meet her gaze. Behind black framed glasses, her green eyes are smoldering and you feel goosebumps raise across your skin in reaction. "Did you want to start the clock now?"

Her answer is her fingers intertwining with yours as she practically drags you to the bathroom, pushing past the crowds of people that are gathered on the roof. You chuckle in amusement as she impatiently pushes open the door to the toilets before leading you into the last empty stall. Her hands are on you instantly, groping your breasts over your dress, with her lips on your neck and you reach for her in return. You run your fingers through her hair, dragging your fingernails across her scalp in the way you know she likes and you feel her moan against your pulse point in response. It sends a jolt through you and it's not the first time you've felt excited over the power you feel when you manage to get Alex like this; so hot and bothered in a matter of seconds.

It's not normal routine for you to kiss your customers, you'd normally avoid it to be honest, but you can't help yourself as you guide Alex's lips to meet yours in a hungry kiss. It's almost animalistic, in the way she growls as your lips clash together, all tongues and teeth as her hands roam greedily over your body. You willingly part your legs as she moves in closer, her hand making its way between your bodies to press against your panties which are soaked, as expected. You moan with her this time, as the heat from her palm spreads electric tingles through your core, setting you on fire.

And in the back of your mind, you're telling yourself that this is just another customer. You shouldn't get attatched, don't, don't, stop, but _fuck_, the way she makes you feel.

"Fuck," you breathe the word out, more of a gasp than a moan, as her fingers slip beneath your panties, rubbing from your clit to your entrance. "Fuck, _Alex_."

You can feel her begin to tremble in your arms, so ready to take you and so ready to be taken. You know every word that will push her closer to the edge, every sound that will have her gasping before you even touch her, but you _want _to touch her, so you slip your hand between her thighs and copy her movements as she begins to rub your clit. It isn't slow or gentle, no tenderness as there rarely is between the two of you; not that you're overly rough with each other, but neither of you are the kind of people to really make love, just fuck. It's just pure passion and lust, wild but never painful, fast and hot and you admit to yourself easily that you love it like this.

In another life maybe, you think Alex might have been your perfect match, at least in the bedroom.

You enter each other at exactly the same time, groaning in sync at the feeling of being filled so perfectly; so perfectly that neither of you move for a few moments. The rest of the world fades away as you rest your forehead against hers, breathing heavily as you relish in the feeling of her inside of you, and in the feeling of being inside of her. Again, in this moment, you realize that this shouldn't feel as good as it does and you definitely shouldn't feel as complete as you do, but then Alex is moving her fingers inside of you and the thought drifts away.

It doesn't take long for your movements to become almost frantic, until your back is almost slamming almost the bathroom stall wall with every thrust. The muscles are standing out on your arm as you grip Alex's shoulder to hold yourself up and you can feel Alex's legs begin to tremble as you push in deeper and harder, until your feel her walls convulse around your fingers and it's only then that you let yourself go.

You muffle your screams against her neck as Alex groans loudly into your hair, struggling to hold you both up as her knees threaten to give way. You feel as if you're drowning in a sea of pleasure as your insides seize and your muscles shake and it feels as if last forever before the stall begins to fade back into view. You slowly pull out from Alex, hearing her gasp into your hair at the sudden loss and stifling a moan of your own when she follows you a moment later, until you're both just leaning against each other, weak kneed and satisfied.

But the satisfaction only last for a few moments and then Alex is pulling away, her eyes still filled with desire as she takes in your dishevled form.

"Let's get out of here." Despite the fact you'd both just had powerful orgasms, there was an urgency in Alex's voice that both amused you and turned you on. Feeling elated and playful from the high you were still coming down from, you couldn't help but poke at her.

"You don't want to stay and have a drink?" You ask playfully as she pulls you from the bathroom, practically bowling people over to get out of the club. "Maybe get something to eat first?"

"I'd rather eat you."

"Oh, promises, promises," you laugh, the noise floating away on the New York breeze, along with all your worries and doubts.

/

Another month of your life passes and you easily manage to pay your bills, since your meetings with Alex have become more frequent over the past few weeks. You haven't even had to use any of your other customers lately, since Alex always managed to approach you first and she was more than generous with her money. She regularly offers to take you out, to different clubs and bars and sometimes to dinner, but you always refuse, even when she offers to pay for every second of it. Those kinds of deals with customers always end up feeling like a relationship and it's not your style, to let yourself or your customers get too close.

You don't do feelings, haven't for the past four years and you definitely don't do relationships. It just wasn't good for business.

And even though you genuinely did like Alex, liked her humor and her kindness, she was still just another customer to you and you knew that one day she would find someone else and move on and that was okay. There would always be other customers and life would go on, with or without Alex in it.

It's late on a Saturday night, but you're not working; instead you're at a bar, waiting to meet up with a few friends to let off some steam after a long couple of weeks. Lucy is at home having a Star Wars movie marathon with James, after you picked him up some Star Wars lego and he wanted to rewatch all the movies that he loves. Lucy will probably never forgive you, she's not a fan, but she had waved you out the door as she pushed the DVD into the player anyway, a definete pout on her lips. And now you sat at the bar, nursing a margarita as you waited and ignored the stare from the man down the counter, who had been attempting to meet your gaze ever since you entered the room.

You turn your head when the door opens and smile when Rachel enters first, her eyes finding yours immediately as she raises her hand in a happy wave. A few other people enter after her, and you're surprised to see Nicky, who grins wickedly at you when she see's you, and even more surprised when Alex enters behind her.

Her smile when she see's you is geniune, and her eyes are appreciative as they take you in, leaning against the bar. You realize that this is the most casual she has ever seen you, outside of Litchfield, you're wearing a pair of tight black jeans and a baggy white t-shirt, with a pair of black converse and you can tell that she approves. Your vision of her is blocked when Rachel steps in front of you and you return the tight hug as she envelopes you in her arms. You can see over her shoulder that the rest of the group has taken their seats at a corner booth and already Nicky is waving you over impatiently.

"Hey, girl, how've you been?" Rachel gives you a smile as she pulls away, whilst gesturing to the bartender.

"I've been good," you reply automatically, even though you've been anything but. You'd been up all last week with James with the flu, and you'd been stressed as his temperature had continued to rise for days. Even though it had passed now, you're still feeling worn out from lack of sleep and you still feel slightly hungover from your excessive drinking last night, the headache which had woken you up from your place in the bathtub still with you even now. "How about you?"

"Yeah, good, same as always," she replies as she leads you to the booth with the rest of your friends, where you're immediately pulled into the seat beside Nicky, opposite of Alex.

"Look who it is!" Nicky greets you happily, wrapping her arm around your shoulder and pulling you in for a hug. "One of my favourite people!"

"Hey Nichols," you grin as you return the hug as much as you can, given the seating arrangments, whilst ignoring the leg you can feel brushing against yours under the table. "It's been a while."

"You're telling me, kid."

You greet the other people in the booth before turning to Alex, who is still watching you with a slight smirk. "Hey, Alex."

"Hey Pipes, fancy seeing you here."

Nicky turns away from her conversation with Rachel at your casual greeting, her eyebrows raising into her hairline as she glances between you both. "You two know each other?"

"Yeah," Alex offers, though she says nothing more, even when Nicky tilts her head in question at her friend, before turning her curious gaze on you. While there aren't any strict rules when it comes to clients, there is an unspoken confidentiality and you easily keep your composure as Nicky scrutinizes your expression.

"I met her at Litchfield, through Fahri," you explain, keeping your voice low so that the other people at the table can't hear you. "Just friends, nothing more."

"Fahri, huh?" Nicky asks skeptically and you immediately notice the tinge of worry in her eyes as she looks at you. You know that this conversation isn't over, even when Nicky turns back to her conversation with Rachel a moment later, seeming to disregard your relationship with Alex.

It's a few hours and several drinks later when the topic reemerges, as Nicky turns to face you when Alex makes a trip to the bar to buy the next round. You've barely spoken to Alex all night, though you've felt her leg brush against yours underneath the table a few times and you've caught her watching you out of the corner of your eye more than once.

And it seemed you hadn't been the only one to notice.

"Watch out for that one, Chapman," Nicky says immediately upon catching your attention, blunt and straight to the point as always, as was her way. "I don't want you getting caught up in her shit, or getting hurt. Vause is good people, but you've got a kid at home you need to think about."

Nicky was one of the few people that knew about James, who even came over to see him every now and then, and you knew that she cared about you both so you didn't brush off her warning as you normally would. You met her eyes carefully, letting her study your expression while you answered as honestly as you could.

"It's just work, Nichols, I promise," you reply softly, your eyes leaving hers for a moment to gaze at the dark figure standing at the bar. "And plus, I don't think it's me you need to worry about, you know?"

You meet her gaze once more and you're not surprised to find a gentle understanding in her warm brown eyes. Despite her reputation of being a womanizer, you know better than most that Nichols has a soft heart underneath her tough exterior, have experienced it for yourself on more than one occasion. You turn your gaze back to the bar, to find Alex staring back at you with a thoughtful expression and a soft smile on her face and you feel Nicky sigh from beside you.

"Ah, shit," you hear Nicky murmur softly. "Vause is about to find out something it took me nearly half my life to figure out."

"Yeah?" You ask. "What's that?"

"That even with all the money in the world, you can't buy love."

/

It's five p.m. in the afternoon on a Friday and you're practically running home from the shops, with a massive grin on your face. You've worked the past seven days straight, and you've just left an interview to be a receptionist at an office, and you think it went pretty well. You still go to interviews all the time, you haven't given up, even after all these years. You've worked several part time jobs since you had James, but they never lasted long and they never paid enough for you to stop working on the streets, but you never stopped trying.

You enter your apartment complex and rush up the stairs, one hand fumbling for your keys while the other holds a big plastic bag. You miss the lock twice in your excitement, before finally managing to open the door, practically bouncing into the tiny apartment and meeting the gaze of your kids, one your own flesh and blood and the other as good as.

"Hey!" Your smile is practically bursting off your face and James returns it immediately, for no particular reason, just happy that you're happy. Lucy is staring at you from the kitchen, a bewildered look on her face, but a smile is pulling at her lips as she watches you practically float to the couch where your son sits. "Look at what I've got for you guys."

You pull a big box out of the plastic bag as Lucy comes over from the kitchen and place it on James's lap, your eyes studying his face intently. It's a brand new playstation, with four different games and you watch with pure joy as your son's face lights up with happiness. You look up to find Lucy staring just as intently at the box, her eyes flickering to James and back as tears fill her brown orbs, matching the ones filling your own eyes. It's one of those few perfect moments that you get in life and you take in every single second of it with wide open eyes, letting the joy of it fill your heart.

You've never been able to afford something like this before, not even for any of James's birthdays. The money you get from your work is just enough to live on, but your work schedule is patchy at best and sometimes you have to scrape by, just to put food on the table and to keep the lights on. Every toy or movie you've ever brought has always been from a secondhand store and you've never been able to buy anything new, except for now. The amount of work you've been doing lately has helped you to put a little bit of money aside each week so that you could afford this and it was worth every cent.

"Wow," James whispers as he runs his hand over the box, his blue eyes wide and his smile excited as he looks up at you. The look on his face hits you right in the heart and you have to swallow back a sob as you smile back at him. "Mom."

"It's all yours, baby," you reassure him as you reach over to muss his dark hair, much shorter now since you cut it a few days ago. "Go on and open it, so we can play something."

His hands start scrabbling from the corner of the box, ripping off the tape that kept it closed before he stops suddenly and looks up at you with hopeful eyes. "Are you... Do you have to go to work?"

"No, baby." Your grin is even wider now, and his smile stretches to mirror it. "I'm staying home with you tonight. I want to play some video games, so come on."

You chuckle as he rips open the box, pulling out the brand new game console and it's controllers before you and Lucy try and work out all the cords. It's takes almost half an hour before everything is plugged in and you're watching Lucy and James from the kitchen as you make dinner, playing one of the games that you'd randomly grabbed off the shelf at the store.

A few hours later and you've joined them on the couch, changed from your interview clothes and into an oversized t-shirt, with three empty bowls on the coffee table in front of you and candy scattered over the floor and the couch. You're laughing as Lucy attempts to teach you how to use the controller, while James beats the crap out of your character in Mortal Combat and it's the happiest you've felt in a long time.

Your phone buzzes on the coffee table in between games and you pick it up as you wait for Lucy to put a different disc into the playstation. It's Alex and you feel your smile fade a little as you read the message.

**Alex:**

**Hey, are you coming out tonight? I haven't been able to get you out of my head all day x**

You read the message three times before looking up to see your son standing next to Lucy, laughing as they argue playfully over which game they'll play next. You smile as Lucy finally surrenders to James's wish, and takes the disc he hands her before putting it on. A controller is thrown your way as the screen lights up and you take it, turning off your phone before you place it back on the table.

You don't regret the decision, especially after you stay home all weekend with your kids on the couch, having the time of your life, or even when on Monday, your phone rings and you're told that your application to the job hasn't been accepted. And on Thursday, when a new pile of bills are thrown onto your table, you still can't find it in yourself to regret it, not when the image of your son's overjoyed face is burned into your memory, keeping you warm on cold nights and scaring all the stress and worry away.

/

It's a few weeks later and you're at Litchfield, in the middle of a conversation with Fahri, who is now a regular customer. You're pretty sure the cartel has a deal going with Red, who you know is in the middle of some pretty shady Russian business as well. Fahri and his group are always given the most secluded sections of the roof to do their business, away from prying eyes, and in return, they have no qualms about waving their money around, buying drinks and genourously tipping the staff.

You've been sitting with Fahri and his associates for over an hour now, and since Alex has been out of town for two weeks, you have no problem with the fact that one of Fahri's partners has been whispering things in your ear for the past thirty minutes. Litchfield is pretty quiet for a Saturday night and the man seems quiet and gentle and it looks like the best you're going to get, so you let him rest his hand on your thigh and smile when he tells you how beautiful you are.

And so it's a little bit tense when the small crowd around your area parts to let Alex through, her eyes finding yours immediately. Her smile doesn't faulter for a second and her expression remains easy going and calm, but you've known her for long enough now to see the fire that lights in her eyes at the sight of you in someone else's grasp. And as she sits down across from you, holding your gaze, you start to feel like you're doing something wrong, like you've broken a sacred trust.

And you think it has a little bit to do with the fact that Alex looks so fucking _betrayed_.

You try to push these thoughts away, since Alex knows full well that this is your job and you have no loyalty to her; your loyalty is to James and to Lucy and to absolutely no one else. Your job is to keep food on the table and to pay the bills so your kids have a safe place to sleep, and you can't afford to wait around for customers when there is someone else willing to pay you for your services.

There is no room for guilt, you try to remind yourself, as you avoid Alex's gaze and the barely concealed hurt on her face. This is just work.

But it proves too much, the way Alex is looking at you and the feeling of this stranger's hand on your thigh, so you excuse yourself briefly and escape to the bar. Unfortunetely, Rachel isn't working tonight, so you order a drink from the bartender and just wait quietly, praying that Alex doesn't follow you but somehow knowing that she will. And of course you're right and unsurprised when you feel her slide up next to you at the bar, shaking her empty scotch glass at the bartender, who immediately starts to make her order with yours.

"Hey," her voice is soft and husky when she greets you and you don't even turn your head to look at her as you practically whisper a reply. "Hi."

An awkward and tense silence follows, as the bartender places your drinks on the table and Alex automatically pays before you can even pull your purse out. You thank her quietly before turning away to walk back to the table, only to be stopped by her gentle grip on your arm. You don't feel scared, as you normally would when a customer grabs you, the touch too soft to cause any fear, but you feel something as you finally look up to meet Alex gaze. And the hurt that's shining from those green eyes in enough to make your breath catch in your throat. "Alex..."

"That sucked." Her voice is croaky, missing that velvety quality that you're so used to. "That really fucking sucked, Piper."

"Alex..." You repeat her name, searching for words, feeling the need to explain even though you know that you don't have to. _This is your job, you don't have to explain anything, fuck._ "Alex, this is my... it's my job. You weren't here..."

"I know. _I know_." Her voice is bordering on frustration, exhausted, as she lets her fingers slip from your arm. She looks down briefly and for a moment, you think the conversation is over, but then she speaks. "But don't you hate this? Do you like what you do? I've never even asked."

You fight with yourself as your consider answering, knowing that what you say is important, for more reasons that one. But you don't like lying, never have, and so you tell her the truth. "Of course I don't fucking like this, but what am I meant to do, Alex? This is my life."

"It doesn't have to be," Alex replies immediately, frowning when you sigh in frustration. "It doesn't, Piper. You're so fucking smart, you don't have to live this kind of life. You could do anything."

"You think I haven't tried?" You fire back immediately, your words sharp, causing Alex's eyes to widen with surprise. You never speak to clients like this, especially not Alex. "You think I haven't fucking tried to find other jobs, Alex? I have. I have tried so fucking hard to find other work, but there's not much out there for an English Lit major from Smith, you know? I still go to interviews every other week; I have worked as a waitress, as an English tutor, I have baby sat other people's children, but it's not enough, Alex. This world is expensive as fuck and I can't support my k- I just can't live on a waitresses salary."

The silence that follows is heavy and you find your breathing has increased as you stare at Alex with sad and angry eyes. But all of your anger fades when Alex speaks next.

"Then work for me."

The offer is so unexpected that you just freeze for a moment, disbelief coursing through you as you stare at the other woman. "Excuse me?"

"Come work for me," Alex offers again, her tone determined as she gazes back at you. "Seriously, the money is good and the work would be easy, not to mention you'd get to travel."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" The offer is so ridiculous that you can't help but laugh, causing Alex's expression to change from one of confidence to confusion. "You want me to work for you, as what, a drug mule? No fucking way!"

"Why the fuck not?" Alex's tone is all sharp and defensive now, her eyes narrowed as she stares at you. You can practically feel the wall building between you, but you're too angry and in too much shock over Alex's disbelief to worry about it.

"Because you're a fucking drug dealer, Alex! It's illegal!"

"So? What the fucking difference?" Alex practically snarls back and she's never spoken to you like this before either, so cold and angry. "You're a fucking _prostitute_, Piper, that's illegal in this state too, you know."

You laugh incredulously at her words, shaking your head. It's the first time Alex has ever called you by that title and it stings unexpectedly, like a sharp slap in the face, but you shake it off. "Yeah, but if I get caught, I spend maybe a few nights in a cell and pay a fine; if _you _get caught, you spend _years _in prison, Alex. I can't afford that, I have a son to think about!"

The words slip out of your mouth before you can stop them and you're sure that your expression matches the one on Alex's face; one of complete and utter shock. The silence is so heavy you feel that it might suffocate you, as if all of the air has been sucked out of the room, sucked out of your lungs until it feels like you can't breathe.

Fuck, _what have you done?_

"You have a son?" Alex's words are practically whispered, her voice low and tinged heavily with surprise, as if this is some giant secret, which it is. You never tell anyone about James, about the son you leave at home when you walk the streets at night; only a few of your most trusted friends know that he exists, and even fewer have actually met him.

You feel your throat close up, unable to believe what you've let slip and knowing that you've ruined everything, just by the way Alex is looking at you. You feel tears unexpectedly well in your eyes, try and blink them away, but you know that you're unsuccessful when you feel the warm wetness slide down your cheeks. You wipe them away as a sudden burst of anger overwhelms you, lifting your eyes to glare angrily at Alex and know that you're about to say something that you might later regret, but you're unable to stop yourself.

"So what if I do?" You practically growl, your eyes narrow as you stare at the dark haired woman. "Is that such a fucking surprise, that a _prostitute _might have a son at home? Given my line of fucking work, Alex, is that really so shocking? Not that anyone would ever fucking know, since I'm not paid to talk, you know. I'm paid to fuck, and I will take whoever is willing to pay if it means that I can put food on the table for my son, and who the fuck are you to judge? You don't know what kind of life I've lived, how would you, since you never taken the time to ask. So don't act like you fucking care what I do or how I live, Alex, because I don't believe a single fucking word you say."

"Piper." Alex's voice is a bare whisper as she tries to interrupt your rant, but you've gone too far to stop now, so you raise your voice a little louder to drown her out, feeling four years of anger and grief drain out of you as you speak.

"You think that you're better than me? Well, maybe you are, Alex, but at least I wake up every day and know that what I do is helping me to keep my son happy and healthy. You have to wake up every day and know that what you do helps to kill _hundreds_ of people. You're a fucking _drug dealer, _Alex, and maybe you've got a good life, but you're destroying thousands of others," you take a deep breath, readying yourself for what you're about to say before you continue. "And now that I think about it, that's not the kind of person that I want to know. Like I said, I have a son to provide for and I don't want to end up getting pulled down with you when your little business starts falling down around you. So, I think that this is the end of our 'relationship', Alex."

You watch as her face drops as you speak, her eyes growing dark and dull with every word you say until she just looks empty and lost. She licks her lips when you finish, one hand holding so tightly to the bar that her knuckles have gone white. "Piper..."

"Goodbye, Alex," you cut her off, unwilling to listen to anything she has to say. Scared that what she says will stop you from walking away. "It was nice to work with you."

You turn away before she can say anything more, ignore her voice when she calls out your name, and you know that it will hurt her, but you gesture to the man who has been waiting for you with Fahri's group anyway. You don't wait as he stands up to follow you, just keep walking as you repeat what you said to Alex over and over in your head.

_I have a son to provide for. I have a son to provide for. I have a son to provide for._

It's the truth and it's what keeps you going in the darkest of times, but despite all of that, it doesn't help with the feeling of your heart shattering in your chest as you remember the heartbroken look on Alex's face, knowing it will be the last memory you have of her.


	3. Chapter 3

_Authors Note: Howdy guys, I know it's been a bit longer than planned since I last updated, but the third and last chapter is finally here. I want to warn you that this chapter is again, not very well written and also, I haven't been able to find any time to edit this properly, so there will most likely be spelling errors and the like that you'll find, but hopefully, someday soon, I can go back through these chapters and edit everything. Now, this ending may not be to everyone's liking, but I want you to know now before you start, that the story doesn't end here. I plan on doing a seperate story, from Alex's POV that shows her side of things, from the start of this story and a little bit after this one ends, which will hopefully tie everything up. It may take a few weeks before it's posted, but I've already started writing it and hopefully it won't take too long. _

_I also want to thank everyone for the support, reviews and PM's that I've received reguarding this story. I am as grateful as ever for all the feedback and for the patience everyone has shown in waiting for my other stories to be updated, which will hopefully happen in the near future. I especially want to thank everyone who sent me PM's and comments, giving me well wishes and the like concerning the recent hardships in my personal life. This fandom is full of wonderful people and I cannot thank you all enough. You guys really lifted my spirits with your kindness. _

_I hope you have enjoyed the story. _

**This Is What I Call Life**

_I don't know how I'm supposed to feel, without my tiny little pills_

_Sudden emotions I have awoken, I'm wet behind the ears_

_To find myself in such a cruel, cruel world_

_And nobody gets me, nobody gets me, nobody gets me like you_

_And everyone left me, everyone left me, everyone left me but you_

_'Cause you're the only one, the only one, the only one that gets through_

_When my hope is gone, I'm feeling numb, the only one I let through is you_

_You get me through this cruel, cruel world_

_Cruel, Cruel World - Darren Hayes_

James is asleep in his room and Lucy is passed out in your bed, both blissfully unaware of the mess that sits on the kitchen floor, huddled against the counter, clutching a bottle of tequila. Your stomach gurgles in complaint, but you quieten it with another mouthful of the harsh liquid, that burns down your throat and almost threatens to come back up. But you're no novice and within moments, your stomach settles and accepts it's fate as your liver cries quietly in the dark, grim pit of your belly.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know that this has to stop, know that you have a son that you're responsible for, but these late night binges are the only thing keeping you going lately. These few hours of blissful nothing, no stress, no worry, no pain, is the only thing that's keeping your darkest thoughts at bay, the ones that whisper to you in the middle of the night.

The ones that sound like a voice that's so familiar, but one that you'd rather just forget.

Unfortuntely, your alcohol tolerance is at an all time high tonight and so when you drop the empty bottle of tequila on the floor beside you, your mind is still functioning enough to form thoughts. And it's not long before those thoughts turn to memories which start rolling through your mind and you have to think about the reason why you're such a pathetic mess lately.

Alex.

It's all because of fucking Alex; Alex who made you start to dream of a better future for yourself and your son, who gave you hope for a different life. It's not that you're heartbroken over _her_, you try to convince yourself, you're more heartbroken over the loss of how she made you _feel. _

Because when you were with her, for the first time in years, you actually felt _alive_.

It was rare that you ever spent time with her outside of a hotel room, but sometimes when you were at Litchfield with her, you would both just _talk. _Not about your lives, never about your lives, but about your interests and sometimes, on the most rare and the most drunk occasions, about your hopes and dreams and fuck, you just felt _normal. _You didn't feel like you were a sex worker with a four year old son at home, you didn't feel like you had a pile of unpaid bills waiting to be paid, you just felt like Piper.

Alex brought out the you beneath the facade that you wore so well, the you before everything in your life went to shit and it was just so fucking nice to leave reality behind for a little while.

Not that you regretted your life, since that would mean you would have to regret the birth of your son, which you could never do, even on your worst day. James was the best thing that had ever happened to you, but you were human and sometimes you couldn't help but think of the possibilities, couldn't help but dream of a different life.

And Alex gave that to you, and then Alex took that away, like some vengeful, jealous little god, or goddess in this case.

And it wasn't until you pushed Alex out of your life that you realized all of these things, noticed the change in yourself and the change in your thoughts. You know a part of it was just the regular work and the regular paycheck, the ability to pay your bills on time and to start to make actual plans for a better future. But a part of it was just Alex; Alex who was so confident and so sure of herself and Alex who, though she never said it until that fateful day, always gave off the impression that she thought you could always be more than what you were. The way she looked at you and the way she spoke to you made you feel as if you could do anything, be anything.

But it all just ended up being an illusion. Alex was gone now, has been gone for almost three months, and you were still the same as you were before, except now life seemed even duller than you could have ever imagined.

"Fuck," you whisper to your self, dropping your head into your hands to hide the tears that were beginning to swell. "Fuck, fuck, fucking shit, _fuck._"

"Mom?"

You quickly look up at the sound of your son's voice, hurriedly wiping away the tears that had begun to build in your eyes as James enters the kitchen and spots you. He's still half asleep, his hair messy and his blue eyes only half open, and he doesn't seem to find it strange that you're sitting on the kitchen floor, in nothing but an oversized t-shirt.

"Hey baby," you say softly, forcing a smile and opening your arms as he immediately makes his way over to you. He practically falls into your embrace, he's so obviously tired, and you hold him to you gently, relishing in his warmth against your cold skin. "What are you doing up?"

"I thought I heard something," he murmurs softly as he leans his dark head against your chest. "And I'm thirsty."

"Well, let's get you a glass of water and then get you back to bed," you reply as you run your fingers through his soft hair. "You start school on Monday and you need to get your rest."

You stand up with him in your arms and place him on the kitchen counter before you pour him a glass of water. You wait until he's finished before picking him up again and carrying him the short journey to his room, with it's Star Wars bedsheets and lego that covers most of the floor. He's barely awake when you lay him down and cover him with a blanket, brushing your fingers over his hair before leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead.

"Goodnight, baby," you whisper softly. "I love you."

"Love you too," he mumbles, before immediately drifting off to sleep. You watch him for a little while, hoping to gain some strength from his face before standing up and making your way to the living room. You lay down on the couch and close your eyes, hoping for sleep to take you, but it never comes and instead, all you're left with are memories.

/

Weeks pass and nothing changes, except for the fact that James has started school and you're left at home by yourself almost every day. Being alone only makes things worse and you find yourself falling deeper and deeper into the depression you've slipped back into, so far that you feel nothing could pull you back out. You drink more and you sleep even less and it's beginning to affect your work, which has already dropped since your refusal to return to Litchfield after that fateful night.

But the bills have piled up and you're almost two months behind on rent and beneath the depression is an intense fear that you might be thrown out onto the streets, so you know you have to pick up your game. Most of your regular clients all frequent Litchfield, and you know that your only chance to scrape by the next few months is to return to your old hunting grounds. So on a Saturday night, you ask Lucy to watch James for you as you put on your favourite dress, a short black number that leaves your back completely bare, before you leave the apartment with a mixture of hope and dread in your heart.

The half a bottle of vodka you drank before leaving home leaves you feeling more confident than you expected as you walk up the street leading to the club, lacking the nerves you had expected upon returning. You pass the line outside and meet Mike at the door, just like old times and you don't know whose more relieved to see who when he moves to let you pass.

"Piper, where the hell have you been?" He asks with obvious worry, despite the relieved smile on his face at your prescence. "We've been missing you here."

"I've missed you guys too," you reply geniunely, leaning forwards to return the bear hug that he offers you. "Is it going to be a good night tonight?"

"When everyone finds out that you're back? It's going to be a huge party up there."

You give him a smile before you walk inside, overwhelmed as you always are by the noise, which is something you find yourself unaccustomed to after months of quiet bars. You instantly head for the stairs, leaving the dancefloor and then the second floor behind as you climb until you reach the roof, where your voice is immediately shouted the moment the hit the top step.

"PIPER!"

You twist around to face the small bar, where Rachel is practically climbing over the counter to meet you, gaining surprised and confused looks from the other bartenders and customers. You meet her halfway and you're almost knocked over by the force of her hug, feeling the breath knocked from your lungs as she squeezes you tightly.

"It's good to see you too," you manage to wheeze out, though you hug her back whole heartedly. You've missed Rachel more than anyone over the past few months that you've been absent from your favourite club and you felt a weight lift from your heart to see her again.

Only for your heart to drop when over Rachel's shoulder, you see _her_, standing at the bar with a shocked look on her face as she stares straight back at you. It feels as if time stops, as you continue to hold her gaze, feeling as if your heart will burst from the emotion that threatens to overwhelm you. Your mind goes completely blank, except for one thought, the thought that it is just so fucking _nice _to see her face, lacking the anger and hurt of your last meeting with the raven haired beauty. And then Alex puts down her glass and takes a step towards you and time speeds up again, the room fading back into view. Rachel pulls away from you, blocking your sight and your vision is overwhelmed by your friend's worried expression at close range and all thoughts of Alex leave your mind.

"Piper, where the fuck have you been?" She practically hisses as she begins to pull you away from the stairs, but not in the direction of the bar as you expected. She makes a hurried gesture to one of the bartenders and you manage to catch a glimpse of Alex standing stock still in the middle of the room with a forlorn expression on her face, before you're pulled to a corner table and out of sight. "Do you know how fucking worried I've been?"

"I'm sorry," you apologize immediately and it's completely sincere; you feel horrible just by looking at the intense worry on your friend's face, feel like an idiot for not replying to her text messages or letting her know that you were okay. "Things have been kind of... crazy lately, I guess."

Crazy is an understatement and you can tell that Rachel understands by the way her expression turns instantly from frustrated worry to sincere sympathy in a matter of moments. "Shit, girl, you should have called me."

"I know, I know," you sigh, dropping your head into your hands, feeling like a complete failure. In the midst of your problems, you once again managed to forget about the people around you, the people you cared for and who cared for you in return and it made you feel like such a fucking asshole.

"I really am sorry, Rach," you apologize again, looking up at your friend from in between the gaps of your fingers. Rachel simply nods her head in response, so quick to forgive you, which is unfair to her but you take what you can get. You honestly don't know what you'd do without a friend like Rachel.

"Just remember to call me the next time you go off the reservatation, yeah?" Rachel scolds you one last time before sighing and letting the conversation drop. "Anyway, I know you're probably here to work and I have to get back in a minute, but we'll catch up later, yeah? The group is meeting up for drinks at our bar tomorrow and you better be there."

You understand the meaning behind her words and nod solemnly, knowing that an explaination for your time away is more than reasonable since you had caused so much worry. You smile as Rachel squeezes your shoulder warmly before standing up and making her way back to the bar and then you just allow yourself a moment to gather your wits.

And you only get a moment, before someone is dropping into the seat beside you and you close your eyes, expecting the worst. Expecting _her. _

But you're surprised upon hearing a masculine voice call your name and you open your eyes to be faced with an old client of yours; an attractive man around your age, named Liam. He's had a bit to drink and his words are half slurred as he speaks to you and your responses might be a bit too enthusiastic, but you're just so damn _glad _that it's not Alex that you can't do anything but be happy.

He takes your enthusiasm for interest and it's not twenty minutes later that you're leaving the club with him, not daring to look back to see the eyes that you can feel watching you as you walk out the door.

/

An envelope drops onto the table before you, hitting the wood with a heavy thud and you frown over the edge of your glass. You slowly look up to meet Lucy's gaze and find her staring back at you with a strange mixture of hopelessness and determination. You take another sip of your vodka and coke before setting the glass down and picking up the envelope, your blue eyes widening when you peer inside and find it practically overflowing with cash. You don't even manage to get a word out before Lucy is speaking, her words rushed, but seemingly planned.

"I live here," she says firmly. "_I live here_, so I should pay my part in rent. I eat your food, I sleep in _your _bed, my clothes are in your drawers, I use your shower and your electricity and you wash all my shit for me."

"You look after James-" You try to tell her for the hundredth time, but she cuts you off again.

"I look after James two, maybe three times a week," she says with exasperation, putting her hands on her hips in a way that's so much like you, you almost smile. "I am here _every fucking day_, have been here everyday for the past four years, and it's not like looking after James is hard. I could put on the same movie every night and he wouldn't even notice, wouldn't even care, he'd still sit there and watch it and never make a goddamn sound. But you cook for me and clean up after me and you've been the best goddamn mother I could hope for since I was thirteen years old, so I wanna pay you back for it. I want to help pay the bills and the rent and make things easier so you're not so stressed all the time."

Her eyes glance briefly down to the drink by your hand and it all starts to make sense. This isn't the first time Lucy has offered to help pay bills and it's not like she doesn't know you drink, but she's never been so determined before and you know why. She's smart and she's observant and you know that's she's noticed your normally optimistic attitude fading away and the bottles of alcohol that have been dominating your trash can recently. James is still too young to understand or notice, but Lucy is older and she's worried about you and how can you blame her? Her father is an alcoholic asshole; you can't blame her for being scared. She knows the signs.

You feel ashamed suddenly, and tears are beginning to prick at your eyes as you slowly slide the glass away from your hand. You look up at Lucy and watch as her expression softens, watch the tears build in her own brown eyes and it's almost your undoing. She slumps into the chair next to you, taking your hand tightly in her own as she holds your gaze. "Please, let me help."

"Baby," you say softly, your voice cracking with emotion as you reach up to brush some dark hair away from her face. "Honey, you already help me, more than you know. Just having you around, playing with James, it means so much to me, Luce. If I didn't have you, I really don't know what I'd do." You pause as a tear slips down your cheek, mirrored almost immediately by the tear that slips from the corner of Lucy's eye. "You're like my own kid, you _are _as much a part of this family to me as James, and because of that, I can never, ever, take your money, baby."

You slide the envelope across the table towards her and Lucy's brow crinkles in confusion as she gazes as it. "Why? If I'm a part of this family, shouldn't I help out? That's what family does, they help each other."

"You already help out, babe, I told you that, but the bills and shit, that isn't your problem, okay? I'm the mom, paying the bills and buying the groceries, that's my problem, not yours. And honestly, Luce, we're doing okay at the moment, I promise. I'm working again and the bills are getting paid, so, there's nothing for you to worry about."

This news only seems to confuse Lucy further, if possible. "Then what's the problem? Why are you always just so... sad?"

You pause for a moment, unsure of what you should tell her and you're still thinking when she asks the last question that you'd ever expect her to say.

"Has this got something to do with Alex?"

You jaw drops in shock and your blue eyes widen, giving you away almost immediately by the understanding that dawns on Lucy's face. You scramble for something to something, but all that ends up coming out is, "How do you know about Alex?"

"You uh," Lucy looks uncharacteristically awkward as she mumbles the words. "You say his name sometimes... when you're asleep. Dreaming, I guess."

You curse yourself and your goddamn dreams, which do heavily involve Alex recently. Without even thinking, you correct Lucy on Alex's gender while you're still lost in your thoughts. "Alex is a girl."

"_What?_" Lucy's surprised exclaimation brings you hurriedly out of your thoughts and you almost laugh at her wide eyed expression. "Alex is a _girl? _But your dreams, you- you're uh- they're um..."

And Lucy's awkwardness all suddenly makes sense. "Sex dreams, yeah."

And it's true, a lot of your dreams that involve Alex are sex dreams, as your subconcious mind remembers the way her hands felt on your body and the way that her skin tasted. Those dreams are the ones that wake you up, cold and sweating, because those are the dreams that hurt the most. It's the good dreams that leave you crying on the couch in the middle of the night, when you remember the good times, not the dreams that would scare any other normal person. It's sad, but you're use to the bad dreams now, so used to them that they barely even bother you anymore.

It's Lucy's voice that pulls you from your thoughts once more, her question even more shocking than the last. "So, you're in love with a girl?"

It's not the _girl _part that surprises you, it's the _in love_ part which leaves you reeling, since you've spent so long convincing yourself that it's not true that it's shocking to hear it from someone else's mouth. Lucy seems to have finally regained her composure and is watching you thoughtfully, all surprise and confusion having vanished from her face and you don't know what to say. Your mind is a jumbled mess as you're searching for words, but as the minutes drag on, you find yourself speechless until your mouth decides to speak without your consent.

"Yeah, I am."

/

A few weeks pass by and you find yourself slowly getting back into a routine of sorts. Every morning you wake up and make breakfast for the kids, say goodbye to Lucy before walking James to school, which is a few blocks away from your apartment. You spend the time while James is in school doing odd chores around the apartment, grocery shopping and paying bills, before going to pick him up in the afternoon. You spend the next few hours with him and eventually Lucy, whenever she shows up from her after school activities, before making dinner. After dinner is over, you play some video games with the kids before you put James to bed, then you shower and get ready, say goodbye to Lucy before going to work.

You still drink a bottle of vodka almost everyday, but it's a step up from the two you were drinking less than a month ago.

The routine helps, helps you pull yourself out of the hole that you'd dug yourself into, though the darkness is still there, on the fringes of your mind, waiting. Sometimes it creeps up on you unexpectedly, weighing you down, pulling you back into the ocean of misery that has claimed your life over the past few months, but you're fighting it. You're fighting and that's what matters.

This day started out as one of your better days, since it was a Saturday and you were able to spend most of the day with your son. You took him to the park and fed the ducks in the pond before scrapping with him playfully on the grass, while Lucy watched with amusement from a bench a few feet away. It was a good day and you spent most of it laughing, and even on your way to Litchfield, you had still been wearing a smile, but thing's turned not an hour after you arrived at the club. Litchfield was rowdier than usual, even for a Saturday night, and it seemed that everyone you encountered was a little bit too drunk and a little bit too aggravated. One man that had approached you at the bar had ended up being dragged out by one of the bouncers after he started cursing at you and making a scene when you refused his offer to take you home with him.

And now you were on your fifth drink, ready to just give up and go home, since you couldn't see the night getting any better. You couldn't even talk to Rachel, since the bar was so packed that your friend hadn't even had a moment to catch her breath for the last hour and a half. You finished off the rest of your drink and decided to call it a night, reaching for your jacket, only to stop when a margarita was placed it front of you, your favourite, and the seat next to you was filled.

"Alex." You whisper her name without even looking at her, your eyes glued to the margarita, with the fingerprints left behind on the frosted glass, from a hand you know almost as well as your own.

"Piper." Her voice sounds unexpected ragged and broken and it's enough to make you turn your head and look at her. She looks exactly the same, almost, a few small details difference that only someone who knew her well would notice; the bags beneath her eyes, the furrow on her brow, the lack of the normally ever present smirk on her ruby red lips. She looks like Alex, but just an older, tireder version.

"Come home with me," she asks you, out of no where and it's so unexpected, it's hits you like a punch in the gut, knocking the air from your lungs. It was the last thing you thought she would say to you, since you haven't seen her since your brief glimpse of her frozen face almost a month ago, here in this room, and you haven't spoken to her for more than four months, on that fateful day where everything fell apart.

On the day that _you_ fell apart.

"Al- Alex," you finally manage to stutter her name after a minute of frozen silence, shaking your head in disbelief. "I told you-"

"I know what you told me," she cuts you off, her voice tired and defeated, but with an unmistakable edge. There's bitterness there that you don't expect and it's another blow. "I know, but just- _fuck, Piper_- please."

"Alex, we- we shouldn't. I can't."

"I can pay," she offers you immediately, completely ignoring your halfhearted protests. "I'll pay you double." A shake of your head. "Triple. Piper, come on."

You hesitate for a second and you know immediately that it's a mistake, just from the flash of hope that ignites in Alex's eyes. That brief glimpse of emotion is your downfall and you drink your margarita in just a few mouthfuls before standing up and grabbing your coat. Alex follows you without a word, past faceless people and out of the club, where you climb into one of the taxis waiting outside. She gives an address, not the one of your usual hotel, or any that you recognise, but you don't question her. The car ride is awkwardly silent, since you're both unsure of what to say and it feels so _wrong. _You've never had this problem with a client before, especially not with Alex, not since you very first started this job.

But right now, it doesn't feel like work, being here with Alex in this horrible, awkward silence. You aren't sure just yet what it feels like, a mixture of anxiety, hope and dread, but it doesn't feel like just another job.

The taxi stops outside of an apartment complex, on the upper east side, and despite the years that have passed, you recognise the area almost immediately. You used to live not far from here, with your parents in the house that you grew up in, and you haven't been in this part of the city since before James was born and it only makes your anxiety worse. You wait until Alex pays the driver before following her out onto the street, tightening the belt of your jacket, since it feels like the temperature dropped twenty degrees since you left Litchfield.

You trail behind Alex as she enters the apartment building, taking notice of everything as you try to ignore the quick glances that Alex keeps throwing over her shoulder every few seconds, as if making sure that you're still there. You step into the elevator and close your eyes when Alex presses the button, since the elevator walls are mirrorred and you don't want to look at the dark haired woman beside you. You feel like a coward and you're beginning to regret this, letting your emotions get the better of you, letting Alex persuade you so easily into taking you to what you were now realising was her home. You never, ever went _home _with a client, always only to hotel rooms, mainly for safety reasons but also because it always felt too personal.

And now you were about to see where Alex lived, see her apartment where her fingerprints were placed over every piece of furniture, where her scent lingered in the air and you were terrified; terrified that you'd take it all home with you and never be rid of it. Never be rid of her.

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding when the elevator doors finally slide open and you force your legs to move when Alex begins walking down the hallway, while your mind begs you to stay in the elevator. Her door is all the way at the end, and you realize that you're not the only one feeling anxious when you notice Alex's hands shaking as she tries to insert her key into the lock. It makes you feel strangely better and a little bit more confident by the time Alex finally manages to open the door, only for it all to drain away upon seeing her apartment.

"Holy shit," you say, a little louder than you expected, causing Alex to jump in surprise after the last thirty minutes of silence. But it breaks the ice and you both feel better for it, as Alex drapes her jacket over the back of her sleek black leather couch, while you walk around the open planned living room in wide eyed amazement. The apartment is amazing; with polished hardwood floors, a plush black leather corner lounge, overlooking the city with all it's colourful lights through the floor to ceiling windows. There's no television, but there is a large gas fireplace, with pretty blue flames and the walls are covered with floor to ceiling bookshelves, overflowing with books. There are photographs everywhere, with Alex in all of them, along with some people you recognise and others that you don't, one in particular who you know immediately must be Alex's mom, since the resemblence is uncanny, with their smirky smiles and bright green eyes.

You turn to find Alex watching you intently from over the black marble kitchen counter, a glass of scotch in her hand. There's one waiting for you as well and you find yourself almost aching for it, aching for the confidence that the alcohol will give you. You want something to help you get past this tense silence, to help you numb the feeling of your heart in your throat and the painful clenching in your stomach.

You finally manage to tear your gaze away and begin to untie the belt of your jacket, slowly sliding the tan material off your shoulders. You know why you're here, the _only _reason that you're here, you try to convince yourself, and you make sure Alex knows it too as you kick off your heels. You move to take off your dress, but you're surprised when your hands are gently pushed away to be replaced by Alex's; you hadn't even heard her leave the kitchen. Her hands are soft and warm when they slip the silky material from your shoulders, letting your dress fall to the floor around your feet, leaving you in your lacy black bra and underwear.

She takes your hands and guides you through the living room and into her bedroom and when she lets you go, you take a moment to look around. There's a king sized four poster bed in the middle of the room, with intricate carvings on the wooden headboard and black silk sheets on the soft looking matress. There's a door that leads to what you assume is an ensuite bathroom and another wall of floor to ceiling windows, giving you a view of the city. You watch as Alex stops besides one of the bedside tables and pulls her wallet out of her back pocket; she doesn't look at you as she pulls a thick wad of cash out and places it on the table.

And for some reason, the sight makes your heart break a little in your chest.

But then Alex slowly begins to undress and your heart starts to beat harder, thumping painfully against your ribcage. You find yourself crossing the room without even thinking about it and then your hands are on her soft silky skin for the first time in months, and it feels so natural that it's almost like no time has passed as you help her remove her clothes. Your mouth finds the smooth skin of her neck as you hook your fingers in her underwear and slide the fabric down her legs, feel her heart pounding against your lips as her heart rate increases to match the fast pace of your own.

And then suddenly her hands are on you, urgent, desperate, and she's pushing you down onto the bed, sliding inbetween your thighs and pressing against you in all the right places. Your lips crash against hers and your entire body shudders with the explosion of sensations that course through your body, as a whimper escapes from her throat. Your hands are shaking, so you grip onto her shoulderblades to stop the trembling as her hands slip down your stomach and to the warmth between your thighs. She doesn't waste any time and she doesn't need to, since you've been slick with desire ever since the moment you touched her skin. She slips inside of you effortlessly and then your moving in sync and your body is on fire and you wonder how the fuck you ever lived without this feeling. Your stomach is clenching, the muscles of your arms are rippling as you grip onto Alex's back and you can feel rain dripping on your neck-

And then it's as if time stops as you pull away slightly, pushing the sweaty bangs away from Alex's forehead as you try to catch a glimpse of her face. She tries to hide the tears that are flowing down her cheeks but she has no where to go and you're frozen in shock. "Alex?"

"It's fine, I'm fine, I- _fuck_," her voice trembles before snapping, disintergrating into nothing as her face crumples in pain before your eyes. You're beginning to worry, wondering if you've been too rough, if you've hurt her, but the emotions in her green eyes give away the true cause of her pain and you begin to understand a moment before she utters the words. "Piper. Pipes. I love you. I love you."

And then you have to fight the intense overwhelming urge to run away.

She seems to realize this almost the second the thought runs through your mind and her grip tightens on your body. For a bare instant, you're afraid, but then you remember that this is Alex, Alex who has only ever been kind to you, who would never hurt you and she's crying. She's sobbing like a child and it hurts you, so you reassure her with a smile that's shaky at best as you wipe away the tears that drip drown her pale cheeks.

"Please, don't go," her voice sounds fragile, so unlike her and it almost scares you. Who is this person and where is the confident woman that you met almost a year ago? "Please. Please, stay."

It feels like hours before you make your decision, a lifetime, but barely a few moments pass before you allow your body to relax into the mattress.

"I'm here," you whisper as you run your fingers through her dark hair, your lips pressed lightly against her brow. "I'm here."


End file.
